Elle Woods
by chataholic
Summary: Everyone knows Bella Swan and no one knows where she is.The supermodel mysteriously disappeared and her current whereabouts are unknown...Elle Woods is new in Forks, running away from a terrible past and we all know that secrets don't stay hidden for long
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

You don't realise what you have until you lose it. You don't realise your friends before they're gone, or your enemies before its too late. You don't think about who you can trust before you make the wrong choice, or your friends before they leave you. No one thinks about how good they have it before there's nothing left except themselves.

I'm Elle Woods, formerly known as Isabella Swan and I'm exactly like one of those people.


	2. Forks

BPOV

I've never really taken any time to stop and think.

I know how crazy that sounds, believe me I know, but it just never occurred to me that there was something I needed to think about. There was my agent, who I had assumed was the person who was supposed to do that for you, after all I was paying her. And by the time I had realised that something was wrong, I was too far in. There wasn't really anything I could do then, and I did honestly want to stop, but I was scared. It was funny almost, that I wasn't sure what to do, even though it was my own life. But it was also my own mess, so could I not clean it up? Not really. By then everyone thought they knew me, thought they knew exactly what I would do, and I had seen it happen to so many other celebrities, like Britney Spears, and I didn't want it to happen to me.

It was small things that made me realise at first – like when I was going out, I wasn't allowed to wear what I wanted to wear. I might have wanted to wear some blue top, but my stylist wouldn't have let me because I'd 'worn it before' or it 'wasn't me' or perhaps it was 'so last week'. But then, as I grew more and more aware of it, I realised the bigger things – like if I wanted to just go down the street to have a cup of coffee, I couldn't because I didn't have enough time for things like that. And say I went for a walk in the supermarket, I wouldn't be able to because I'd need security, not to mention all of the fans.

I always hated when people ran away.

I suppose you're thinking 'well that's stupid, I mean aren't you?' or maybe 'yeah, isn't it so stupid?' But no one actually thinks about how the person who had ran away is feeling, what caused them to go to such extreme measures and abandon everyone they know! No one is thinking about how that person really feels like they have no one else to go to, no one who will understand what happens. No one knows what caused them to do it, why they feel that they need to because they think that no one cares for them, that no one likes them or even wants to talk to them because no one is there! No one can help them because whoever it is they wanted to talk to has neglected them for too long. It's too late whenever the person has gone and they finally realise that that person has been trying to talk to them for so long, but they never had enough time to listen to what they were really saying, the meaning behind their words.

I'm Elle Woods, formerly known as Bella Swan, and I'm running away. My mom always told me, before she passed away, that your past always catches up on you. It was probably the only good advice she ever gave me, and it stuck with me, even till now when I'm doing the exact opposite of what she told me to do. I was really hoping, in this case, that fate would have some sympathy and let no one find out who I was, and what had happened.

And what did? I bet you what to know, I know that I would if I were you guys. I know your probably thinking 'God, it couldn't be that bad!' but you don't know how bad it was. You had to be all jolly and cheerful; acting as if everything was amazing in celeb-Ville whenever only you knew that it wasn't. There was no one that you could talk to, not a single person who understood what you were going through. You had to keep everything bottled up and not tell anyone how I really felt about anything. It was like hell on earth.

But that wasn't what made me run away; well it was part of it, but not all of it. There is another part to my story, a much darker, more sinister role in my life which made me leave everything behind. It's something that I want to forget about, but it haunts me at night, making me wake up sweating. It was something I would never forget.

I shuddered as I shifted my gaze out of the window, and the man sitting beside me on the plane glanced at me curiously wondering why. There had been no temperature change, and it was warm and cosy sitting in first class. I looked around at all of the other passengers, most of which were posh looking business men wearing suits and reading the newspaper. I looked out of place amongst them – a young girl, clearly only seventeen or eighteen sitting on first class with posh men, dressed in designer clothing.

The guy sitting beside me turned his gaze back to his newspaper, on the front cover of which was a giant of photo of my face, and large bold capitals saying 'HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL????' It really was quite remarkable how if you dye your hair blonde, lay off the fake tan and tone down the make-up, no one recognised you. How blind were these people?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we shall be arriving in approximately five minutes. Please put on your seatbelts." Obediently, I put my seatbelt on, returning my gaze to the window.

I could hear the guy sitting next to me clear his throat and say, "So … Do you come hear often." I turned to see that he was actually talking to me, and this guy wasn't exactly young …

"It's a plane," I told him, raising my eyebrows at him. I was about to turn away when I felt the weight of his arm on my shoulder.

"Take this," he said winking, handing me a piece of paper with his number on it, and turned away. I rolled my eyes, promising myself that I would throw it into the nearest bin I could find.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have now arrived in Seattle. Thank you for flying with _easyjet_." I stepped quickly from the plane, tossing the paper into the bin I saw just as I got off. I stared around at the airport, at the people there waiting for their friends, their family to arrive. I felt a jolt of pain and loneliness in my stomach, but I reminded myself that I hadn't been expecting anyone to be there. Both my parents were dead, and I was here under a completely new identity so there was no way possible anyone would know me here, unless they recognised me and even then they would only be a screaming fan.

As I walked towards the pavement to get a taxi, I was almost confused by the lack of screaming fans running after me. I was so used to it now, that it felt so amazing! No more autographs, photos or anything else. I was free to focus entirely on me. A taxi came speeding down, stopping at me. I climbed into the back, "Forks village, please. Number 4 on Crescent Road." The cab driver nodded, and began driving, while I stared out of the window, marvelling at the new surroundings. It was like being on an adventure! Everything was just so new, so exciting!

"That's $19.50," the driver told me, and I handed him the money before climbing out of the car. I lookeda around at my surroundings, marvelling at the house, or perhaps mansion would be a better word for it, because it was at least five stories high! The outside walls were white with a black roof and Victorian like balconies over looking the river that flowed through Forks.

I stepped inside, opening the large door with my brand new keys, and stepped into the mahogany hall. There was a grand spiral staircase which led up through the house, the stairs carpeted with a rich red colour, adding the the feeling of grandour. I was right in my estimate that it was five stories high, and I quickly found the perfect bedroom for me.

It had a large balcony, with deck chairs over looking the river and forest beneath me. A large king side bed with blue curtains and navy pillows was in the centre of the room, next to a mahogany bookshelf. A desk was in the other corner, next to a walk in closet and an en suite. I made a mental note to thank the architect, before I jumped onto the bed and fell into a deep slumber.

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I woke up because of my alarm clock, from which was blarring one of my songs - a cover of Hot and Cold. I glanced at the time, and groaned. It literally felt like I had just closed my eyes and opened them again. Rubbing my eyes, I stepped in the shower with hopes that it would wake me up.

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I stared in the mirror, glancing down at myself. I wanted to make a good impression - glamorous yet sophistocated, intelligent yet a party animal ... I wanted to fit in with everyone else, and I had chosen my outfit with particular care this morning.

Currently, I was dressed in a black turtle neck and a high waisted skirt with tights, paired with a white designer coat. I thought of wearing boots, perhaps stilettos, or platforms before realising that they might not appreciate the noise it would make when I walked. Instead, I settled on a pair of white prada pumps. I had gone easy on the hair and make up, gently curling it and only dotting on lipgloss and eyeshadow.

I grabbed my keys and headed out to the car - I was ready for Forks High School. I could take it, even if they didn't accept me.


End file.
